


Quiet (like silence, but not really silent)

by jazzjo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:20:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzjo/pseuds/jazzjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or, the things you said at 1 a.m. (both sides of the coin)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiet (like silence, but not really silent)

It was never quiet in the DEO. Even past midnight, when most of the agents had already left, and the only ones who still occupied the underground facility were a handful of night-shift cadets under Vasquez’s watchful gaze and the latest rogue Fort Rozz escapee threatening to tear this world apart from their cell.

 

And the directors, of course.

 

Alex had sent Kara home hours ago, her job done after the escapee had been detained and locked up. She had tried, as well, to urge Lucy to leave. After all, there really was no need for both directors of the DEO to be there, just to finish paperwork on the several arrests they had made that week. 

 

No one had shut Alex down quite so quickly in her entire life. 

 

Striding over to Alex’s desk, her heeled boots startlingly silent on the hard ground, Lucy had wordlessly scooped up half the pile of files that Alex had set on her own desk. 

 

She then promptly turned on a heel and returned to her own, across what used to be Henshaw’s office, placed them down pointedly and winked at Alex. 

 

_The nerve._

 

With J’onn in the wind — they didn’t _not_ know where he was, but neither of them were going to confirm nor deny that his mission was to locate Jeremiah Danvers — and the recent transfer of leadership, needless to say the military was on their case. 

 

Every arrest, every action taken by anyone in the agency had to be surely and certainly accounted for, lest another witch hunt be sparked off. Lucy’s legal background only made her all the better at that. 

 

Both directors worked in companionable silence, the only sound being the scratching of the nib of Alex’s fountain pen over paper and the muted _tap tap tap-_ ing of the keys of Lucy’s laptop. 

 

Occasionally Alex would break from her work, setting her pen down quietly and leaning back in her chair. As she felt each vertebra of her spine pop back into place, she would rub the tips of her fingers into her temples and squeeze her eyes shut. 

 

She had been doing that, on and off, for the past hour and a half. Not to say Lucy had been staring for that long. 

 

It was just— distracting. 

 

The movement, that is, not the way her hair fell and framed her face as she pored over a report, nor the angles her fingers made as they curled around her pen, nor the occasional soft sighs that would escape her lips. The movement. 

 

That was what that kept jolting Lucy out of her focus. 

 

Lucy rose from her desk, grabbing the empty mug that sat to the left of her laptop. Moving across the room to Alex’s table while her eyes were still scrunched shut, Lucy grinned as she set her mug on Alex’s desk just loudly enough to startle her. 

 

“Refill?” Lucy offered, gesturing to Alex’s own empty mug.

 

“Sure, thanks,” Alex grinned tiredly, her hands brushing stray hairs out of her eyes, “Seriously though, the next time you scare me like that you’ll be flat on your back before you can even react.”

 

“To do that, you’d have to be able to see me, Danvers,” Lucy teased, picking up each mug by a finger and sauntering out of the office, “And for that, you’d have to wear your damn glasses.”

 

A chagrined smile sprang onto Alex’s face, heedless of the fact that she tried to scowl at Lucy’s retreating back. Her left hand absentmindedly rifled through her desk drawer, pulling out the black case that she had been avoiding for the past hour and a half. 

 

“Your glasses,” Lucy began, setting a steaming cup of green tea in front of Alex, “They don’t detract from anything. If anything, they make you look more at home in your own skin.”

 

Alex shrugged at the comment, sliding the thick black frames onto her face and lifting the mug to her lips. 

 

The moment the hot liquid touched her tongue, Alex scrunched her nose up in distaste, raising an eyebrow at Lucy. 

 

“I’m not letting you drink coffee at 0100, Danvers,” Lucy shot back, “You would literally not stop working for the rest of today.”

 

“Eh,” Alex conceded, shrugging lightly, “Can’t argue with that.”

 

“Really though, Alex,” Lucy began anew, her voice low and sincere, “If anyone thought you were any less beautiful because of your glasses, or because of your intellect or your job, they’re an idiot. They don’t deserve you.”

 

“Thank you—”

 

“Just calling it as I see it, Danvers.”

 

* * *

 

It really should never have come as a surprise to either of them that their most sincere conversations started out in the silence of the post-midnight DEO. 

 

In the light of day they were Directors Danvers and Lane, two women who the men from hosts of other agencies and departments leered at and looked down upon. They had nothing to protect them except sheer force of will and both their well-practiced, impermeable shields. 

 

They had to be unimpeachable, after all. 

 

If not for the fact that they shared an office, and neither allowing for the other to be the one to leave the base last, Alex would never have seen or learnt all that she did.

 

Lucy was good at hiding anything she did not want to be revealed, that much Alex could vouch for. 

 

They had taken to shutting the door to the office after midnight, relishing in the relative quiet of the base and allowing their walls to come down at least partway. Vasquez — _Susan,_ Lucy had learned sooner than Alex had thought she would have cared to — would seek them out if necessary. 

 

Alex was glad for that new practice at times like this. 

 

For once, Lucy’s posture ceased in its ramrod rigidity, the fight seemingly knocked out of her spine as she leaned on her knees with her elbows. One hand gripped the receiver of her phone so tightly Alex could almost hear the creaking of the plastic, while the other twirled a section of hair around a finger, over and over.

 

“Hi Dad,” Lucy began, stopping short and changing her tone entirely before she continued, “My apologies, good morning, General. To what do I owe this call?”

 

Alex couldn’t hear the General’s words over the line — nor would she attempt to; it was Lucy’s choice, if she chose to tell her or not — but she could see every emotion play out on the lines and creases that disrupted the smooth plane of Lucy’s face. 

 

It took more of her willpower to stay in her chair and not seek Lucy out to hold her in her arms than it did to stay awake past 0300 four times a week. 

 

“I’m not coming back, I’ve made that quite clear,” Her tone was clear, matter-of-fact, and her face schooled into as impassive a demeanour as one could accomplish at 0100, “I’m happy where I am.”

 

Lucy pressed her lips together, their edges turning white as she rose and began to pace the length of the room. 

 

“I’m no longer under your command, General,” Lucy ground out, her free hand quivering over the keys of her laptop, “Besides, the bill was overturned years ago.”

 

Throaty, brash yelling came over the phone and across the room to where Alex sat, half in and half out of her chair as she heard Lucy’s voice begin to crack.

 

“Don’t do this, Dad,” She forced out between shaking teeth, “I’m happy where I am, with _who_ I am. You don’t have to do—”

 

Lucy buried her face in her free hand as she dropped the phone back into the cradle. 

 

Immediately Alex sprang to her feet, kneeling next to Lucy, whose diminutive frame shook with silent sobs. 

 

Alex pushed the dark frames further up the bridge of her nose before putting her arms around Lucy. Her thumbs rubbed small circles around the small of Lucy’s back, her breath soft against the ridge of her shoulder. 

 

“He’s can’t—”

 

“He’ll find a way. He always has.”

 

Alex shifted such that she could see into Lucy’s eyes, brushing a stray lock of hair away from Lucy’s brow with a gentle finger as she spoke, “You aren’t alone in fighting him. And if you don’t want to, you’ll always have a place with us.” _With me._

 

“I just want to do this on my terms,” Lucy ventured, “Before he finds a way to turn my own nature against me.”

 

“And I'll be right there for you when you do.”


End file.
